New York

[Jimmy Cash2120]

I got a hundred guns and a hundred clips
New York where we die and drama lives
the Empire State, makin that cake
too much stress, I gudda get away
take a trip out west maybe see LA
get my bud in Humbolt then down to the bay
In New York, these thugs play dirty
treat a bitch like a man, that’s a dead birdie
crept in your house, you never even heard me
keep ya aim straight and your head sturdy 
New York is my home, but don’t get it twisted
you think this is a diss, cali bud go you lifted
I still got love for my peeps all around
love us too, or we holding you down
go ahead and test me, I got rounds for you chumps
pounds and pumps, sittin on your ass like them clowns the clumps